Dear Petunia
by cool bnr
Summary: She loved thought out letters; he cherished 4 AM conversations. Fire and water - they were both wild in ways that could not differ more, but sometimes, opposites attract and this is a story of love.


**A/N: Every story needs a backstory, and may I present to you: a backstory (introduction) to a backstory. Also, here's a threat: if you fuckers don't read the sorting hat's song out loud, I'll fuck you all up. I spent a lOT OF TIME ON THAT SO READ IT OUT LOUD THANKS I LOVE YOU.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I even borrowed J. K. Rowling's McGonagall nearly word for word. **

_"Prologue"_

or

_"Never Grow Up"_ (x Taylor Swift)

* * *

_September 2, 1971_

_Dear Tuney,_

_I've just arrived at Hogwarts yesterday. You'd love it here._

* * *

She blinked unsteadily as she exited the train alone. Her best friend had disappeared off to the bathroom, and she was far too impatient to wait for him when there was a whole new world to explore.

The sky was caught between the warm red-golds of the last remnants of summer and the deep periwinkle of another night falling. She remembered that it was a Wednesday and acknowledged that she was tired.

Normal Wednesday procedure. She hated Wednesdays.

The wind blew gently, going up her freshly changed robes and rustling her hair affectionately. It wasn't warm anymore, though it wasn't quite cold, and she clutched her robe around her a little closer. It was nice to be held by something so tightly, she thought.

She sucked in the air greedily, and she could feel the freshness of the mountain _almost_ pierce her lungs. The night dampened it, but her lips turned up to a smile anyway.

She loved mountains. Not that these could be _really _considered to be mountains. They were hills, honestly, but they were just as magnificent, all the same. They stood tall and were washed blue against the darkening sky.

She was glad that Severus wasn't here. Her best friend was so practical _all the time_, and it pained her that he couldn't understand why she gaped and fawned over things that were completely ordinary to him.

But the castle that sat stately was the thing that took her breath away. It was as if she was transported into the 15th century and—

She felt a tug on the back of her robe, and a grin appeared on her face. Speak of the devil, and the devil will appear.

She turned around to greet her friend.

* * *

_I met some people, and I think you'd get along well with this one bloke._

* * *

Thick, messy black hair. Almost golden hazel eyes. Perfect eyebrows. Strong nose. Goofy grin. Round spectacles.

Not Severus. The devil did appear.

She looked him over and barely restrained an eyeroll. His shirt had not been tucked in, nor his pant pockets, and his tie was askew.

"Yes?" she asked, coolly, making him falter a little.

He ran his hand through his hair, and she watched as his fingers part the dark locks. It was almost mesmerizing.

She also almost felt bad for being so mean to him.

"Lila Evers?" he asked hesitantly.

Almost. Her pity for him flew out the window.

"Lily Evans," she replied coldly, glaring at him, unimpressed. She _hated_ when people got her name wrong. She could practically _feel _the disdain radiating off her face. "Not pleased to meet you at all. What was your name again? Jeremy Potty?"

He looked as taken aback as she felt. She resisted the urge to clap her hands over her mouth. The last part had been unneeded and mean; she had always prided herself for being so sweet to others, no matter what they had said.

Remorse flooded her, and an apology was on the tip of her tongue when—

"James Potter," he corrected her quietly, stuttering a bit as he gained volume. "I just wanted to apologise for earlier. You know. On, er, the train."

Shock hit her. He apologised _and_ stuttered? She didn't peg him for someone who stuttered.

She caught a frown on his face and decided that he was just as surprised as she was.

"I didn't mean to offend you. Or your friend."

She glanced at him for the second time, surprised again. He offered an endearing smile, and she responded with a cautious one.

She hurried to make amends. "It's okay. The past is past. I'm sorry about earlier, too. You know. Just then."

Her face flushed red, and she could just imagine just how ridiculously it clashed with her hair. She could have kicked herself. Several times.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his grin widen imperceptibly, as if guessing her thoughts.

"Nah, you're good," he replied easily. "Want to start again?"

"I'd like that," she said, relieved. She gave him a genuine smile and stuck her hand out. "I'm Lily. Resident red-head."

The other laughed and shook her hand. "And I'm James Potter, also known as Jeremy Potty."

Much to her dismay, an unruly laugh burst out of her lips, and her new…_friend_ looked a little alarmed.

"I'm sorry," she giggled, pulling her hand out of his grasp to try to muffle her laughter. "It sounds so much better coming from you."

He glared at her. "You know, I said that to make you laugh, but I don't think I want to hear it again. You sound like a dying zebra."

Her giggles stopped abruptly as she slapped the back of his head, a little _too_ hard to be passed off as friendly. "Shut it, Potty."

He scowled and stuck his tongue out at her; she returned the favor. They walked along for a little bit, keeping close to each other as the darkness became more prominent, and it became harder to see.

She broke the silence first. "So, Gryffindor?"

His eyes lit up, and she was embarrassed to say that she noticed the gold flashing almost violently in them when he was passionate about something. There was a brilliant smile to match with it. "The best house there is—the house of the brave! Can you imagine? Both my mum and da' went there."

The wind blew again, and she couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled out as she watched his hair flop around in the air. It was like watching a fish out of water.

He looked over, confused, and she sealed her lips shut as she hurriedly put a response together. Once she was sure that she wasn't going to laugh again, she responded.

"What are houses? I mean, Severus said that they had something to do with separating the students apart, but he didn't elaborate…" Her sentence trailed off questioningly, while her bright green eyes remained trained on James, waiting for him to answer.

He scowled at the mention of her best friend. She chose to ignore it.

"I don't know why you hang out with him. Those girls over there seem perfectly nice," he said, nodding towards a cluster of girls giggling happily.

She stopped in her tracks. Just kidding. She wasn't going to ignore it.

"He's my best friend," she informed him, poking at his chest. "He's the one who told me about magic, and he's the only one I know. I won't have you choosing my friends for me, thank you very much. It was nice meeting you. Now, bye."

She stalked off, looking for another very different black-haired boy. Where _was_ he?

There was another tug on her robe. She turned around, expectant.

James Potter again.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I won't say another word about your...friend. Don't be mad."

She huffed, and after another minute of looking for her friend in vain, she relented. "Not another word," she warned.

He made a solemn x across his heart. "Cross my heart, hope to die…never." He gave her another grin.

She made a swatting motion at him, and he ducked. Her face darkened with annoyance.

"Am I really becoming so predictable?"

The other nodded.

Cue facepalm.

James grasped at his second chance and began babbling about the castle, houses, every bit of information that popped into his head. There were four houses, he told her: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Apparently, there were secret passageways, and he was betting her a galleon that he'd find them all before third year. Oh, a galleon is the biggest money there is. Yanno, there are three kinds of coins: galleon's the biggest, you know that now, and seventeen sickles make a galleon, and ten knuts makes a sickle.

"What about candy?" she asked.

He began rambling again. Chocolate frogs were his favorites, and he was almost done with collecting the cards that came with them. Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans were kind of tricky, since _every flavoured beans _literally meant _every flavoured beans. _His mum reckoned she had tried a cat flavoured one...how she knew what cat tasted like was beyond him.

Their heads turned up as they heard someone bellowing "FIRS' YEARS, FIRS' YEARS, OVER HE' PLEASE. FIRST YEARS!" accompanied by a lantern shining brightly in the already dark sky. The pair followed obediently as James began to lecture Lily on Quidditch (his favorite sport, and he had debated on whether to play professional since his da' and mum had agreed he had the potential) until her head hurt and she knew _way_ too much on Quidditch than she ever cared to know.

* * *

_He told me all about this world, the things that you don't read in the books._

* * *

It wasn't until they were directly under the lantern held by the man twice Lily's size that he stopped for breath. James looked at the other incredulously.

"You let me talk that long? Why didn't you stop me?" he asked, his eyes widening.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself, Potty. I didn't know any of it anyway…"

The other opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by her best friend tugging on her robe.

As she greeted her friend enthusiastically, she didn't notice the pleasant smile slipping off of James' face, only to be replaced by a poorly concealed glower.

_Snivellus_, as James had already fondly dubbed him, was currently questioning Lily on her disappearance, whereabouts, and reasoning for being with him. James sent an unnoticed scowl at the boy, and Lily sent him back a reproaching stare.

She watched his duck his head embarrassedly, and his hand went through his thick hair again.

"Sorry, Lily," he mumbled. "Catch up with you later."

She lifted up a hand to wave goodbye, but he didn't turn back.

The giant—his name was Hagrid—ushered them off into the boats, and they were going to the castle.

* * *

_But I think you would have enjoyed the castle more than the people._

* * *

Hagrid had left them with a stern-faced woman, decked out in exactly what Lily thought a witch would wear: a pointy black hat and a deep green dress-like robe similar to her own.

She thought the witch was rather pretty and young, but Lily had always been terrible at guessing other's ages. The woman's black hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her lips were in a thin line.

They followed the woman across flagged stone floors—she heard the chatter of seemingly millions of voices to her left, she supposed everyone else was already there—into a small, empty chamber. Everyone crowded in, standing closer than they normally would have.

_Anticipating and scared, _she thought. _It was for comfort, probably._

Lily turned her attention back to the lady. She generally had a good character judgment, and she didn't think that she should _ever_ cross this woman.

The woman cleared her throat delicately, and Lily was mildly surprised until she spoke. "I am Professor McGonagall," she introduced, sharp and to the point. "Deputy Headmistress, currently head of Gryffindor. Welcome to Hogwarts."

She felt like she was sweating bricks. She felt like she was eating bricks. She felt like a brick. Brick seemed to be her dominant emotion, mostly.

"The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly," the professor began, "but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I'll be back in a minute, so wait quietly."

The quiet lasted solemnly until she whisked out briskly, and a nervous whisper arose.

"How exactly are we sorted into Houses?" she asked her best friend, almost silently, chewing on her lip worriedly.

"Don't be nervous," Severus assured her. "I heard the test was really easy."

Lily swore she felt her heart stop. "There's a test and you didn't tell me?"

She heard something that sounded suspiciously like a curse word. Lily gave him an admonishing stare and swatted him on the back of his head.

He rubbed it gingerly, and mumbled to himself, mostly, "Probably wrong wording. I didn't mean that. There's just a—"

"TEST!" said the boy who was with James earlier. His staggeringly cold blue eyes stared down at her, and she couldn't help but notice how strong—perfect, actually—his nose was.

"See, it's a magic school," the brown-haired boy continued, "so they make you do something magic. In front of the whole school."

Lily could have screamed.

Sev tried again. "There's not actually—"

"But I don't know any magic at all! I didn't even know it existed up until a few weeks ago!" cried a brunette, obviously distressed.

"Did I ask you, Mudblood?" he sneered contemptuously, drawing a few gasps. Silence filled the room, except for the fast whispering of his extensive knowledge from a rather fat boy who had introduced himself as Francisco Valentino Flanigan, born on February the 13th with parents who possessed a cruel sense of joke had been lost on Lily and she remembered, peeved, of how he had also included his entire birth story _and _the alternative that could have happened with his name.

Lily frowned in annoyance at both of the males. She'd never heard of the term, but she didn't like the way this boy said it, nor did she appreciate the extensiveness of her ignorance shoved in her face. She decided that she didn't like him. Neither of them.

"Sirius," she heard James mutter. "Cut it out."

_That's right_, she remembered. _His name was Sirius. _

Sirius frowned at the other. "Did I do something?"

She watched James swat the other, and she giggled along with the other spectators, ignoring the look Sev sent her.

"Idiot," James said, "you called her a _you-know-what._"

Hmm. So this _mudblood_ thing was taboo...

She leaned over to Severus. "What's a mudblood?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "A, er, really mean name for, um, a muggleborn."

"Jerk. It's not like it's that big of a deal," Sirius was saying lazily, blowing his neatly trimmed hair off his forehead. Lily could tell it was lusciously smooth, even though it was messily curled. "Not at all."

Suddenly, she felt murderous.

Everyone was curiously watching the two now, with the muggleborn girl standing in the background, bright red with embarrassment.

"Just say sorry, ugly," James said, exasperated. "Don't screw up my first night here."

"I'll screw _you _up, Potty," the other bantered.

She could tell they were going to be best friends and giggled at the exchange, making everyone turned towards her, causing her to flush.

Sirius had turned to the girl, and offered her a begrudging and mumbled "sorry".

She squeaked out, "It's fine."

Lily silently congratulated James as she watched the event unfold, ending with the students whispering nervously to each other. Crisis averted.

The doors creaked open a second later, and a hush descended unnaturally fast on the first-years. Professor McGonagall stepped through.

She waved her hand, and names appeared floating, suspended eerily in mid-air. Her glance swept over the children, and suddenly, Lily was acutely aware of every speck of dirt on herself. "Find your name. Straighten up while you still have time."

Several people looked uncomfortable as they tried smoothing down their skirts and hair.

"I'll be back in a minute."

Some nodded mutely.

The nervous atmosphere that had been somewhat alleviated by the two boys' banter was back, and once again, Lily felt like a brick.

Francisco Flanigan was back at full speed, whispering about various spells his mother had let him try on her wand, even though it was technically illegal to do so. He seemed very proud of himself for breaking the law.

_Wow_, she thought to herself sarcastically, as she wished that looks could kill. _You're _such_ a thug._

Then, at the same moment, there was a loud ripping noise. Lily nearly jumped out the roof, along with several other students. She looked around for the source.

Two boys—guess who?—were looking at each other with identical faces covered in shock, each holding..._duct tape?_

Lily was appropriately confused.

"Holy mother of Merlin," James whispered.

"No way," Sirius sputtered.

Their faces had turned into delight, and Lily watched bemusedly along with the rest of her class at the two boys. Even Severus had turned his attention to them.

"YES!" James yelled, pumping the air with his fist.

"OH MY MERLIN!" rejoiced Sirius, holding his hand high for a loud smack from James.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Er, duh."

And that's how McGonagall came in, to find Francisco Flanigan's mouth taped shut with the rest of the class crowded around, out of line and order.

Lily was still blinking when she got back slowly into her spot behind a boy with a nice smile, trailing in line behind the exasperated witch through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

* * *

_I couldn't breathe at all._

* * *

Her breath was stolen from her as she entered the wonderfully bizarre and brilliant room. It was illuminated by thousands upon thousands of glittering, floating candles. Directly under them, there were four long tables where the students were catching up with their friends, all crinkled happy eyes and full of laughter.

All the tables were set with gleaming, golden plates and goblets with matching napkins and silverware, except for the other long table at the top of the hall where the professors were seated. As Professor McGonagall led the first years up there, Lily saw that instead of gold, everything was a sparkling silver.

There was a little gasp of astonishment behind her from a girl who had introduced herself as Cecilia Fetters. "Lily, look up," she whispered, brown eyes huge.

Her own green eyes followed the girl's, and once again she couldn't breathe. This entire place was a fairytale, and she couldn't help but marvel.

She followed the first years in front of her dazedly while staring at the ceiling—or rather, the _lack_ of the ceiling.

It was dark now, and Hogwarts was a million miles away from anywhere, away from the factory town that she knew as home; the stars laid strewn across the sky like dazzling diamonds, unlike anything she'd ever seen.

Lily belatedly remembered that it was charmed to look like the sky outside as she frowned at the same nasally voice from before stating so.

Stupid Francisco Flanigan. She knew that. It wasn't like she didn't read the textbooks at all…

She scowled guiltily, temporarily distracted from her surroundings. She had always been a good and studious student, but summers were something sacred. Completely reserved to break and do absolutely nothing.

Her attention snapped to Sev as he made a wide gesture, clearly meant to capture her attention.

_What? _she mouthed at him.

He said something undecipherable, and after another minute, she gave up. Something that started with an _s._

She turned her gaze towards the other students, whose faces were washed in the pale glow of the suspended candles, and she saw Professor McGonagall silently place a four-legged stool in front of her class.

Lily watched mesmerized as the teacher put a pointed wizard's hat on top of it. It was tattered and ragged and dirty beyond belief.

_Maybe she was to pull a rabbit out of it_, she thought wildly. She was panicking now; this was certainly the test that Sirius Black had been screaming about earlier. All of the students in the hall had fixated their attention on it.

For a few seconds it was dead silent. It was as if the entire school was holding their breath.

Then it moved.

She couldn't help but gawk at the hat. Was it singing?

"_Yes, I may be ugly but  
Don't underestimate me  
If you can find a smarter hat  
I'll eat myself, you see."_

She was too dazed to process the words simply by the fact that an _inanimate object had just moved._

"_I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,  
None can put me down,  
You'll never find a replacement,  
Not in any town."_

Nevermind the fact that it was singing, it had _moved._

"_Nothing you can hide from me,  
I can see it all.  
Try me on and you will see  
where you stand proud and tall."_

Lily desperately needed to sit down, but she supposed it would have been kind of awkward to just plop down in front of hundreds of people.

"_Gryffindor might suit you best,  
It's where dwell the brave at heart.  
Never faltering and dauntless,  
Where bravery never departs."_

She stood.

"_Or maybe Hufflepuff is the place to be,  
It's all patience and loyalty,  
Just and unafraid of toil,  
The best variety._

"_Ravenclaw is the wisest choice,  
that is, if you're smart,  
Those who love their wit and learning  
Wisdom they impart._

"_Now perhaps in Slytherin  
Is where you'll make your friends,  
They're cunning, sly, and do anything  
To achieve their ends."_

Its tone grew somber, and Lily's head jerked up to watch the old hat.

"_But Hogwarts, you are One  
Houses do not be conned  
This rivalry is dangerous,  
Do not wait until crisis has dawned."_

Students were looking at each other worriedly, murmuring in the hat's solo, discontent and uneasiness flowing throughout the room. Lily could tell that this wasn't normal at all, and she was afraid.

"_For peril is coming soon,  
You'll find your friends unexpected  
And your enemies too close  
Hogwarts, stand connected!"_

Disoriented, she heard the last phrase that the hat sang in a much lighter tone.

"_Now, don't you worry nor be afraid,  
I swear it's not a trap!  
I'm as capable as can be  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The applause came slow, but it thundered as it grew. The hat bowed to each of the four tables and then became rather still again.

So all she had to do was try on the hat! The nervousness eased a little, but she still wished that she didn't have to try it on with everyone staring (quite intensely) at her. The Sorting Hat's message was frightening, too, but she pushed that out of her mind as Professor McGonagall stepped towards the hat, looking a little shaken, holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abdullah, Eric!"

A tan boy with thick, neatly trimmed brown hair stumbled out of line and gingerly placed the hat on his head. A moment later he was declared loudly a "RAVENCLAW!"

A table in the middle towards the left clapped and cheered as Eric went to sit with them. Lily saw a silvery being—was it a ghost?—seemingly congratulating the boy.

She blinked again, looking around the room. The entire hall was dotted with ghosts.

She missed the next few names, and then she heard, "Black, Sirius!" become a "GRYFFINDOR!" after a baited 3 minutes of silence.

More silence met with this proclamation, until the Gryffindor table came to their senses and thundered happily for the proud, proud boy.

Soon, the boy with the nice smile ("Diggory, Amos!") in front of her became another "RAVENCLAW!" and it was her turn.

Naturally, she was back to her brick state of being.

So when McGonagall called "Evans, Lily!", Cecilia had to gently push her forward.

She screwed her eyes shut as the hat fell, too big, over her eyes. She was scared. What if the hat stayed on her forever and she had to be kicked out because she couldn't be placed?

Brick. She was a brick. She felt like banging her head against a brick wall. Many times over.

"Calm down."

She felt like sobbing. She was making up voices in her head and she couldn't—

"It's the hat. I can see with all your rambling. Stop."

Oh.

She quieted and twitched uncomfortably as the hat seemed to talk without her input.

"You're incredibly smart. Kind sometimes. You've got a lot of ambition. You're going to be someone one day."

So was that Slytherin?

"But you're a muggleborn. So I'm not sure…"

Suddenly she was angry that this prejudice was already affecting her, even though she had literally just gotten here.

Abruptly, her mind flashed back to a conversation held earlier that day where a certain hazel-eyed boy had been talking passionately about the best house there was: Gryffindor.

"The house of the brave," the hat mused. "It will suit you well."

And all at once, the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The table furthest to the left erupted with cheers and welcomed her with open arms. She stepped bewilderedly over to the direction, and amongst the confusion, she didn't see Severus' face fall in disappointment.

"Potter, James!" came to sit across from her, next to Sirius, and he shot her a grin that she returned before getting swallowed up by dozens of people congratulating him. Lily could see clearly that James was already destined for popularity.

A minute later, "Snape, Severus!" had joined the ranks of the Slytherins that Lily already didn't like, and he gave her a rueful smile as he disappeared into the hoots and hollers of the furthest table to the right, decked out in colors of emerald and bright silver, their snake emblem waving proudly over their heads.

Even then, the two had chosen their paths.

But then, she didn't know, and she was young and naïve, and she was happy that she had a place where she was cherished; she still had her best friend, and she was accepted into warm reds and lovely golds.

And about half an hour later, she was sitting with others her age, laughing and snorting, making friends in her new house, feeling lighter than air.

So this was home.

* * *

(Age 11) Lily's letter in full:

_**Sent.**_

_September 2, 1971_

_Dear Tuney,_

_I've just arrived at Hogwarts yesterday. You'd love it here. I met some people, and I think you'd get along well with this one bloke. He told me all about this world, the things that you don't read in the books._

_But I think you would have enjoyed the castle more than the people. __I couldn't breathe at all. _

_Please write back soon, though! Love you lots. xx_

_Love always,_

_Lily_

* * *

(Age 13) Petunia's response:

_September 5, 1971_

_Dear Freak,_

_ I hate owls._

_Petunia_

* * *

**This isn't a T-rated thing at all, but it will be. Probably an M by the time I'm done. Also it's kind of short, but sorry not sorry.**

**If you think it's worth continuing, please drop a review. **

**- **Kerri


End file.
